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Tales of Men and Ghosts

Tales of Men and Ghosts

Author: Edith Wharton
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The Bolted Door I

Word Count: 2829    |    Released on: 17/11/2017

asant lamp-lit library, paused to compare hi

inutes

oor-bell of the flat. It was a comfort to reflect that Ascham was so punctual - the suspense was beginning to make his host nervou

d walnut credence he had picked up at Dijon - saw himself spare, quick-moving, carefully brushed and dressed, but furrowed, gray about the temples, with a

turned with a thrill of relief to greet his guest. But it was only the man-serv

ay he's unexpectedly detained and

harder for him to control these reflexes. He turned on his heel, to

ner had already been noticed and discussed below stairs. And very likely they suspected the cause. He stood drumming on the writing-table til

lf hour al

e punctilious lawyer would have allowed nothing less to interfere with a dinner engagement, more

yer; and, after all, Granice's note had given no hint of his own need! No doubt Ascham thought he merely wanted to make another chan

g on you soon to go over the contract. Those theatrical chaps are so slippery - I won't trust anybody but you to tie the knot for me!" That, of course, was what Ascham would think he was wanted for. Granice, at the idea, brok

a letter had been slipped. Next to the manuscript was a small revolver. Granice stared a moment at these oddly associated objects; then he took the letter from under the string and sl

under the letter-head of "The Dive

do about it. It isn't the poetry that scares her - or me either. We both want to do all we can to help along the poetic drama - we believe the public's ready for it, and we're willing to take a big financial risk in order to be the first to giv

the result of 'The Lee Shore,' where you carried all the expenses of production yourself, and we couldn't fill the theatre for a week

e-reading it, when he knew every phrase in it by heart, when for a month past he had seen it

same with all the ot

smissed ten years of pas

he result of 'T

lve to put it on at his own cost, to spend ten thousand dollars of his inheritance on testing his chance of success - the fever of preparation,

f you hadn't t

nd the lyrical-romantic - finally deciding that he would no longer "prostitute his talent" to win popularity, but would impose on the pub

- the best ten years of his life! And if one counted the years before, the silent years of dreams,

his whole past! And he must wait another twenty minutes for Ascham. It was one of the worst symptoms of his case that, in proportion as he had grown to shrink from human company, he dreaded more and more to be alone. .

is head, between the ear and the nape. He knew just where to place the muzzle: he had once got a young surgeon to show him. And as he found the spot, and lifted the revolver to it, the inevitable phenomenon occurred. The hand that held the weapon began to shake, the tremor c

. It was no use - he knew he could never do it in that way. His attempts at self-destruction were as futile as his snatches at fame! He

ert and Burgundy, began to

r man was about - but the fact is, I was

produced. It was not any recovered pleasure in life that he felt, but only a deeper withdrawal into himself. It

lly the production of an artist like yours." Mr. Ascham sipped his

movement of surprise. For a moment he

Ashg

se it's out of our line entirely - we never touch criminal cases. But she wanted to consult me as a friend. Ashgrove was a d

have their coffee

led the way back to the curtained confidential room. He

ry, glancing at his letters - the usual meaningless notes and bills - and

SE WANTS TO

E HAS FOUN

the title of a play, a "poetic drama," dance before his eyes, and dropped the paper, sick, dis

o be purposely lingering. "I shan't need yo

nder, that Mr. Granice should want him out of the way? Probably he would find a pretext f

into an armchair and leaned forward

aid, seeming to himself to speak st

Well, there's no

t if there were?

my advice about her choice of counsel. There wa

impression, now

distinctly, that nothi

murmured, puff

hgrove knew his business, and will consequently never

amined his own reflectively. "Then you believe in th

r solved." The lawyer ruminated behind his blue cloud. "Why, take the instance in your own family: I'd forgott

h a stale unescapable familiarity. How sick he was of looking at that room! It was as dull as the face of a wife one has wearie

e shared Granice's inte

oned it. Go ahead and tell me. There are certain features in the Lenm

What if he were to try another appeal to Rose Melrose? Then he looked at the notes and bills on the table, and the horror of taki

y. I know who murd

omfortably in his chair,

ell, who did

aid Granic

awyer lay back staring up at him.

is money, I suppose? Better and better! Go on, my boy! Unbosom

he last peal of laughter from his throat; t

her for a long moment, and th

ani

- to get his mon

gue underlying sense of amusement, saw his gues

, my dear fellow

painfully at first, as if there were a knot in his throat; but

down his e

n't you well? What on e

d my cousin, Joseph Lenman, and I

ant it

when I try to kill myself I funk it." He spoke quite na

ood Lord," the

s no doubt this would be murder in the firs

he said slowly: "Sit down, Grani

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